Stop Talking about the Titanic (Or At Least Talk about It Right)
From the age of eight and onward, my sister became a jukebox of Titanic knowledge. If you dared put a quarter into that thing, she would endlessly recite the story (and stories) of the heart-wrenching final hours of the doomed White Star liner. And she wasn’t alone: in school we read books, we watched movies, documentaries, held class discussions, conducted elaborate thought experiments, and then read more books (I mean books upon books upon books) about the captivatingly tragic sinking of the pompously over-packed and class-divided, monster of a ship that sailed across the Atlantic ocean in 1912.
And all for what? To uncover the “mystery” of why it sank? What mystery? The mystery of how when a big ship bumps into something sharp, it puts a hole in it? Of where iceburgs come from? I don’t even think English people (the place where the boat is actually from) even give this much of a shit about the Titanic’s sinking. Like, it’s just us Americans (according to Titanic forums, anyway).
Most likely, this Titanic psychosis (and American-centric lens) stems from James Cameron’s famous 1997 film, Titanic, which turned the already morbidly interesting tragedy into a seatfilling teen romance, and starred the 90s’ favorite twink, Leonardo DiCaprio. But even Cameron’s obsession with the story predated his interest in film-making by quite a few years.
Cameron told Spanish news outlet, El Pais that he recalls being highly impressed by the 1958 film The Last Night on the Titanic, a detailed recreation of the famous ship’s sinking. His interest only grew when in 1985, Robert Ballard finally located the wreckage. He also went on to tell El Pais that making the film, “. . . was never motivated by an ambition to sweep the box office.” In other words, he claims that he was driven by a passion for sharing this story. And also argues that “. . .Titanic can be seen as a metaphor for climate change, for the danger upon us.”
Ok, what?
Okay, I understand his argument about the climate change metaphor; sure, I’ll concede to that, but here’s the thing: if even half of the resources we have sunk into creating increasingly more detailed 3D mock-ups of a ship whose sinking — let’s face it — we understand perfectly fine, and is not a mystery in the slightest, were redirected toward actually helping fight climate change, maybe the world’s coral reefs wouldn’t be “. . . in an almost irreversible die-off,” according to, “160 researchers worldwide,” (CBC News).
Look, I can’t hate a guy for having a special interest, and I’m not saying that people who are interested in history are the cause of climate decay. You’re allowed to like what you like. But you can’t get around the fact that we are somewhat prioritizing “solving” this straight-forward event over other, more important issues.
And here’s another thing: in all of the endless accounts and documentaries about this event (I haven’t seen them all, I’ll admit) there is a disappointing amount of attention paid to the real issue at the heart of this story: classism. Before you start shouting at me that that’s the point of Cameron’s fillm: I know that. But are we pouring millions and billions of dollars into social welfare? Did people suddenly leave the theaters with a passion for social work and an agenda for helping the homeless? No! We are obsessed with this tragic story and somehow spending all of our money on the least relevant aspects of it!
What the hell?
This obsession with the Titanic is not an excess of empathy for the tragically departed, but instead, is more so the result of an adoration for the despair of the wealthy elite. The film, especially, highlights this: Rose’s account of the disaster begins with an indepth description of the furniture, crown-molding, the linens, valuable art, and cars stored beneath the ship that were forever lost. The film’s critical mcguffin is literally a giant diamond necklace— albeit, a diamond that gets tossed into the ocean in favor of lifelong love — but still, it is the scenes dedicated to the destruction of the beautiful wood-carved walls, jeweled gowns, glinting chandeliers, and porcelain dolls that make our hearts pang most as we observe the narrativized tragedy. There is exactly one depiction of an Irish mother reading her children to sleep as they prepare to drown that floats into mind above the bonechilling sight of water-logged apholstered chairs.
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And admit it: you were pissed at old-lady Rose for not at least letting her grand daughter sell the necklace. Like, she didn’t even ask, and that’s fucked up. Because like it or not, money is important in this world and pretending it’s not is privileged as fuck.
That diamond is representative of the lead researcher, Brock Lovett’s, (yes, I had to look his name up) entire lifetime of work. You feel that capitalist butthole clench as the necklace falls, and with it, a man’s expended labor and existence in a world made with money in mind. That’s not the “fuck you” to The Man or The Machine it was intended to be, intead it’s a “fuck you” to the cogs that can’t just bounce back from financial losses like that.
I know there are a lot more complexities to classism and the Titanic, for that matter, than I am able to present and contend with all at once. And I don’t mean to take out my frustrations with capitalism on “Titanic Girls,” but I just can’t sit here and say nothing while we construct the 10 millionth 3D-rendering of a bunch of slowly disintegrating remains.
Throughout my writing, I did look into potential humanitarian reasons for continued investigation into the Titanic’s remains, and its relevance to archeology and insights into human history can’t be entirely disregarded (National Oceanic Atmospheric Administration). But that’s, like, literally it. For most people, further studies into the wreck is purely individualistic. And I get it: I’m weird, too! But I also know when to stop and put my money where the hole in the hull actually is.
I will say that during my research, I discovered that James Cameron founded the Avatar Alliance Foundation which is a nonprofit organization that provides grant money to other environmentally focused organizations. So that’s awesome, but still does not mean that we need to keep diving down to the Titanic. Like, at all. And I’m looking at you, James — he’s been down 33 times (El Pais) — please, just stay on land.
So look, there’s a lot to be learned from historical mishaps, and it’s important to look back every once in a while to make sure we’re moving forward, but it’s no use exhuming what can never change. We have to let sunken ships lie and turn our attention instead to the crises that face us up here, right now.
Sources:
Varied Opinions on American vs. British Anguish over the Titanic
On Coral Reefs: CBC , Global Tipping Points
In Defense of Continued Titanic Exploration
Titanic, 1997 (I’m not linking that)
I couldn’t find an official website for the Avatar Alliance Foundation, but here is James Cameron’s page on National Geographic’s website where it talks about some other environmentalist stuff he does, and here is also the ProPublica yearly audit of the organization.
